


The Apocalypse Suite

by Fxnfarra



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Asexual Character, Drug Addiction, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Character, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, No Incest, Nonbinary Character, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fxnfarra/pseuds/Fxnfarra
Summary: Millionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopts seven special kids to train them to fight evil.Only another person shares this same idea: Dr. Paule Bernier, who with her superpowered children soon become worthy allies - or opponents.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s), Dave/Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Original Female Character(s), Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves/Original Female Character(s), Dolores/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Klaus Hargreeves & Original Female Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. the phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind

**Author's Note:**

> Dr. Paule Bernier, a conceited and ambitious Franco-American woman with a degree in Biotechnology, made it her personal mission to adopt some of these mysterious children. She got four of them.
> 
> Eccentric billionaire and inventor Sir Reginald Hargreeves, just a week later, adopted just as much as possible of these same 43 kids - he got seven.
> 
> These eleven children formed two different heroic teams: Les Primordiaux and The Umbrella Academy; two dysfunctional families of superheroes with bizarre powers and problematic parent-figures. Nearly a decades later, the teams disband, but when Hargreeves unexpectedly dies, these disgruntled heroes reunite just in time to save the world once again.

**Phantom of the Opera reverberates through the Icarus Theater** , blooming from violin strings. _Vanya Hargreeves_ , a shy and fragile woman plays the song with ease under the heavy flash of light.

'23:28' screams in red and echoes the alarm. _Luther Hargreeves_ silences it and gets up to do another chore. His body proportions are all wrong, making him stumble at the tight hallway. The man is gigantic, misshapen and grotesquely muscular under the protective suit he is wearing.

Jagged spires of stone rise from lifeless soil. High overhead hangs a brilliant blue orb: the Earth itself. He is on the surface of the moon, staring out across the desolate wasteland. Alone.

In a suburban neighborhood, the back door of a random house has been broken. The family hold as captive is seated in the center of the living room, bound and gagged. One of the home invaders makes his way down the hall, a shotgun held loosely in his grip.

A masked man reveals himself from the dark, and without a second thought, breaks the neck of one of the intruders. It alarms the others, but if they not feel warned by the large scars over his scalp and face, then his decisive posture is enough to show he's not someone you should mess with. This is _Diego Hargreeves_ , and he's not alone.

From the broken door enters a woman. Just as camouflaged with the shadows as her partner, and just as thirsty for a fight. Her heavy steps against the broken glass alert one of the criminals, who promptly points a gun at her face. He pulls the trigger. The weapon fails. He pulls again. It's getting boring. The woman, _Kayla Bernier_ , turns and breaks his wrist, shooting him with his own - now misteriously well functioning - pistol.

The photographers crawl over one another to take the best pictures of _Allison Hargreeves_. The actress walks the red carpet with chin up and a proud smile, taking her time to guarantee the best of her image.

Pulsing lights and sweaty bodies party at a rave downtown. A woman drifts through the club, past the spiral staircase to reach the bar. She almost gets to blend with the costumers, if not for her short dark blue hair dangerously dyed with aniline. Meet _Sadie Bernier_. She separates the drinks and carries the tray to the vip area, because, different from most, Sadie is not there to have fun.

A man empties the drink. Cappuccino with double shot of espresso. _Elliott Bernier_ is watching the exhaustive game of interrogation behing the one-way mirror. One side of his earphones blasts instrumental music, an old tactic failing at the moment, as the signs constantly mix with the suspect's half-truths.

'RECOVERY IS NOT SHORT AND SWEET. IT IS A LIFELONG PROCESS', says the poster under _Klaus Hargreeves_ ' bed. He is finally getting out of rehabilitation. He packs his almost non-existent belongs and happily catches his one month sobriety coin. It is not his first, it won't be the last.

A blonde young girl rushs out of the house, her bloodied hands paint marks on the double glass door that leaves to the swimming pool - so peaceful and ironic to this very moment. Her whole body is crimson and death, footprints follow her with uneasy steps to the weapon left on the floor.

A stout, furious man marches across the house towards her. She runs to reach the gun first. Their bodies run into each other and she slips on the blood, falling to the ground and being pressed by the weight of the man. The gun has been shoved to the swimming pool beside them.

_What a mistake it is to have stayed in that body._

Her delicate fingers turn firm and feral, her nice polished nails turn into sharp claws. With one clean moviment, she cuts his throat, and heavy, dark blood gush all over her face, almost choking her - what a great parallel to the huge man actually choking over her.

She shoves his dead body aside and crawls to the swimming pool, diving into the chlorined water, feeling totally renewed.

Who gets out of the water, however, does not have blonde hair or nice breasts. They have long black hair, pointy nose and sharp eyes. A little of facial hair adorns their clever smile. _Cain Bernier_ 's body is now mostly clean - time to change and go back home.

Vanya's haunting melody carries...

The communication device at Luther's uniform blinks to life. The man scans the incoming message, shocked.

Diego hears the roar coming from Kayla's motorcycle across the street, meaning she has definitely headed back home. He leans down to pick it up one of his knives - red and silver over the blade - when the low mumbles coming from the family's television stops him.

The pack of paparazzi barks sudden questions about Allison's family. She frowns, anxiety growing on her core. One of her assistants leans in and whispers something in her ear. Gradually, her expression changes and her smile falls.

Elliott exits the room, walking frustrated to his desk and dropping himself on the chair. A co-worker delivers a new cup full of coffee, while mindlessly going through his cell phone. "Rough night?"

"Sometimes it is a bless", says Elliott. "But most of the time it is a curse and a huge pain in the ass."

His colleague nods - more to acknowledge this little talk than for actual interest in the answer. Then he stops, scoffs, and turns the cellphone in his hands to show the news he has just found.

Klaus' died.

For just a few seconds.

The paramedic has just saved him from an overdose. Klaus takes of the oxygen mask, with tears in his stained eyes and a maniac laugh. He raises his hand: 'GOODBYE' is tattooed on the palm. He and the overwhelmed paramedic share a high five, and with his conscious still coming back, he is granted with a breaking news.

Vanya abruptly stops the melody, looking deeply into the empty chairs of the theater. 

**Everything is perfect before Kayla Bernier unlocks her apartment door.**

"I want to break up," Emma says.

Kayla stays, stopping whatever she had planned to do. A sharp, bruising ache creeps upward from the pit of her stomach.

"I know this seems kind of sudden." Emma begins to wring her hands. One of the things they don't have in common is aversion to direct conflict. Kayla always searched to expose what her mind is wondering about. Do not mistake it with showing what she's honestly feeling at the moment, though. "I can't wait until we decide if I should move in. I've been thinking about things and it's better just say it now before we go too forward."

"Why?" Kayla asks. Not wanting to seem too accusatory, she stares at her arms crossed over her chest.

"Because you won't have sex with me," Emma answers. Kayla knows it before the words even leave her mouth. _Of course_ this is about sex - what else could it possibly be about? For sure not about her constantly going out at night to beat some dumbasses and criminals. She holds her back straight, refusing to hunch her shoulders. She allows it to fill her, allows that raging, anxious monster to spread.

Couldn't Emma just send her a breakup text like a decent human being?

"We had sex this morning," Kayla replies. Resentment pumps through her veins.

"That's not the kind of sex I want to have," Emma says. She tucks one of her wild blond curls behind her ear.

Frustration crawls slowly but firm through Kayla's lungs. _So why do you want to have it at all?_ "Sure fooled me."

"You know exactly what I like. I can't say the same about you." Emma sighs. Her warm hands hold Kayla's cold ones. "I want to touch you, Kayla."

"You touch me all the time." Kayla looks their intertwined hands. "You're touching me right now. You know me: I need cuddles or I'll die."

"But when it's time to get serious, it's like you turn into a different person. It's weird that I can't reciprocate anything."

"It is not _weird_." Kayla snatches herself away.

"It makes me feel weird," Emma clarifies, her voice pleading. "It's like you don't like me as much as you say you do. When we have sex, it's because I want to. You never initiate it. And the worst part is you don't trust me enough to tell me why."

How Emma having a reason would change the fact in any way? Her past companions all took their own conclusions, with or without a real reason. Their love wanted to fix her, and refused to see that she isn't broken.

Sex matters to Emma.

It doesn't matter to Kayla.

"I trust you," Kayla says. Not a lie, but not the truth either. "It's just hard to talk about."

"I'm asking you to try. If you care about me, you will."

The words 'I'm asexual' knock around inside Kayla's head. She knows she is, had known it for some time. She had also hoped she could wiggle her life around that truth like it doesn't't matter or would never come up. Kayla can't call herself asexual in front of another person. So instead of telling the whole, hard truth, she dances with the definition.

Kayla finally moves from that frozen state in the middle of the front hall and walks to the living room. She's wearing her usual attire: a kevlar-reinforced black bodysuit and knee-length boots, with weapons hiden under her trench coat.

"I don't see the point," Kayla says. "I don't need it. I don't think about it."

"Sex?" Emma laughs - a tiny giggle, as if Kayla had told a mildly funny joke. "But you're Black."

"Oh _mon Dieu_!" Kayla looks at the ceiling defeated and her gloved hands run to her throat, theatrically signaling where this conversation is hitting her.

"What? I can tell jokes, too." Emma looks confused for a moment before shame makes her cheeks turn red. "That was racist wasn't it? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. I swear it was a joke."

"But I'm not joking. I meant exactly what I said, I don't care about sex. You're right. I did it because you wanted to do it."

Emma, slowly, approaches her. "Have you gone to a doctor?" She asks.

"I don't need to."

"Were you abused? Is that it?"

"No."

"Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

"I hope that's a joke."

"It was," Emma admits. Her sad smile burns in Kayla's periferic view. "Then what? Tell me. People don't just not like sex without a reason. It's not natural, don't you think?"

To that, Kayla has absolutely nothing to say.

After a few minutes (Emma had never been into begging), she leaves Kayla's side and exits the apartment.

Managing to get out of the black trench coat and gloves, Kayla sits heavily at the couch - the large and empty couch on her large and empty living room (and by now you might as well understand this applies to her whole life). The frustration would turn into sorrow later. Now, her anxious fingers grasp the remote control and turn on the TV.

While the reporter presents the news, Kayla unzips the boots and kick them off. Every night she regrets putting on this damn Dominatrix-like suit, every night she jumps in expectation to all the pretending that comes with it. The perks of being a vigilante.

It's when another reporter returns with the great grief of the night, an information that Kayla has not been aware of, but quickly took the place of her last concerns.

"We have just received new information about the death of Reginald Hargreeves."


	2. i think we're alone now

**"You don't have to go."** Diego states - rather than suggests - not even giving a second glance at the menu, since he's already had his restrict breakfast.

Him and Kayla are sit facing each other by a quiet diner that has barely opened. He wants to get at the Academy as soon as possible and end it just as quickly.

Diego is wearing his vigilante suit - composed of a black, long-sleeved shirt; tight pants; and security artefacts - _again_. Probably coming back from another job. For someone always so centered about anonymity and secrecy, walking around with daggers and a gun holster is a big give away; but again, not that they haven't gone through this before.

Kayla, however, is a little better at keeping personal and work life separated. She's even wearing shiny earrings and a purple bomber jacket. Her thick hair is neatly pinned up, leaving the contrasting white marking aroung her left eye exposed.

"We had a very similar reality at that time, Diego", says Kayla, taking a bite on a waffle. "And we also evolved a lot since kids, so you should know me better."

Diego starts to say something to that, but the waiter is suddenly there to take away the empty cups. 

"You want another one?" Diego asks Kayla. He doesn’t get an answer. Kayla is staring with a special intensity at the little flash of sunshine reflecting on the table. "Bernier", Diego says patiently, for the waiter’s benefit. "Another coffee, or what?"

She looks up. "Sorry." She notices the removed, empty cup in the waiter’s hand. "No. Yes. I don’t know."

Diego gives a smile, looking at the waiter and back to her. "Which is it?" He insists. 

"Yes, please." She looks more alert. Diego watches the waiter leaving, then looks back at Kayla. "Im just way off today", she says.

She eats another slice, syrup dripping on her lower lip. 

"How's things with that detective..."

It sounds selfish in her mind, knowing she has asked about it just to cope with her own disappointment, already wanting a specific type of answer.

"Oh, we're defnitly not having this conversation, baby." His fingers trace the way down the lateral of his torso, where daggers are hidden in the tactical harness, a clear sign he is busy with his own detachment. "How's your mother?"

The question is sudden and confuses Kayla for a moment, until she understands he is playing the same game as she is.

The waiter comes forward briefly, and leaves a second coffee in front of each of them. Kayla puts her slender fingers around the stem of her cup, but waits before taking a sip. "Not dying."

**They arrive at the Umbrella Academy** and are very welcomed by Pogo, a limping elderly chimpanzee. Is no surprise to see most of the Hargreeves siblings hasn't arrived yet, except for Allison.

Grace, the artificial intelligence that raised them, is unimpressive, sitting on the chair under the splendid painting of the missing Number Five. Eternally a child. Diego immediately walks to his mother, but she has barely no reaction to her surroundings.

Allison is sit by the opposite couch, and even during a simple task as checking her phone, her posture shows the powerful woman she always made sure to be recognized for. She gives Kayla a confused look - understandably - but politely greets both the vigilantes.

"Is that an old bet I wasn't aware of or..."

"We made a peace agreement some time ago." Kayla says, seeing Diego getting up from his mother's side and readily running upstairs. "But he's no less self-absorbed."

Despite the initial light-hearted conversation, it's still an awkward moment and soon Kayla feels the air thickening. With exception of Diego, she hasn't seen any of the Hargreeves siblings in many years, and never actually had been great friends with Allison. One may expect that time and adulthood gives you maturity to deal with this type of situations, but - considering that not even the siblings themselves have a good communication - she certainly shouldn't expect a reassuring interaction here.

"Um... mind if I take a walk around here?"

"Oh, no, feel free. I might be doing the same soon." Murmurs Allison, who also seems tempted to go upstairs.

Kayla saunters down different corridors, the architecture and earthy colors bringing a strange kind of comfort. It has always been different from the place she had grown on. You could pretend here.

She pauses outside a small ballroom, her jaw drops. The ballroom is filled with floating clothes. The 50's housewife's dresses are all performing a slow, elaborate waltz. Klaus stands in the center, spinning and pirouetting, conducting this madness.

From behind Kayla, Diego's grave voice startles her. "Klaus."

Klaus whips around, startled. All the clothes collapse to the floor at once. "Certainly not dancing with Mother’s old clothes!" They stay in silence for an uncertain beat. "You did ask what I’m doing?"

"No."

"Well, then. I wasn’t doing anything. At all."

His wild eyes change focus and he seems to notice Kayla. "Look at this! Mademoiselle..." He makes a reverence with an exaggerated bow. She gives him a thumbs-up. "What about you, brother, what’s been keeping you busy these days? Maybe some beach volleyball?"

"My job."

"Ah, yes. Beating criminals senseless. Breaking bones and cracking skulls."

"Saving lives."

"Ooh, and I see they're coming in pairs now?" Says Klaus, pointing from Diego to Bernier.

"What've you been doing?"

Klaus just grins. Behind him, the clothes levitate back into the air, forming the word 'DRUGS' in giant letters.

Kayla laughter echoes through the ballroom. Diego only shakes his head and keeps walking. "Idiot." 

  
**Luther, Diego, Allison and Vanya** (who has recently arrived in a very inhospitable reception) are seated at the living room, far away from each other as if they have some contagious disease.

Diego's melancholic eyes are fixed at the burning fire pit; Allison takes a sip of her Bourbon, looking extremely uncomfortable; Vanya looks at everyone as a punished child; Kayla is standing up by the door jamb, starting to regret her decision on showing up, feeling intrusive despite being just a regular funeral; and Klaus - not surprisingly - is messing around the bar.

Luther is the one to start the matters, with his remarkable leader posture. "I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard by sundown. Say a few words, at Dad's favorite spot."

"Dad had a favorite spot?"

"You know, under the oak tree." It's specially awkward as he doesn't realize none of the others were ever privy to this particular side of Hargreeves.

Klaus approaches the reunion with a cigarette on his lips, a drink on hand and a goblet being poorly used as an ashtray. "Question: will there be food? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."

"What? No. And put that out, Dad didn't allow smoking in here."

"Is that my skirt?" Exclaims Allison.

"What? Oh, yes, I found it in your room." Klaus takes the opportunity to show himself. He wears Allison's black skirt and walks barefoot on the carpet. The shirt he was wearing as Kayla first encountered him is gone and he's only covered with a blazer.

Kayla smiles as she notices his flamboyant outfit, remembering instantly of her sibling, Cain. As much as they share a similar taste to inconvenience, Cain and Klaus weren't as close as one would expect. Cain had other favorite Hargreeves back in the days.

"It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits."

"Listen up." Luther claims his position as the Number One again. "There are important things we still need to discuss."

"Like what?"

"Like the way Dad died."

"And here we go", complains Diego.

"I don't understand", Vanya says, showing she's still there. "I thought they said it was a heart attack."

"Yeah, according to the coroner."

"And wouldn't they know?"

"Theoretically. I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange."

"Oh, _quelle surprise_ ", mutters Kayla.

Luther looks at her with annoyance. "He sounded on edge. Said I should be careful on who to trust."

"Luther", calls Diego, standing up. "He was a paranoid, bitter old man, who was starting to lose what was left of his sanity."

"No. He must have known something was going to happen." Luther looks at Klaus, who's splattered at Vanya's side. "Look, I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

That is, at least, a _hilarious_ ask considering the precarious mental state Klaus is found at the moment.

"I can't just call Dad at the afterlife and be like: Dad could you just... stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?"

"Since when? That's your thing."

"I'm not in the right... frame of mind."

"You're high?" Suggests Allison.

"Yeah! Yeah!" Klaus scoffs. "I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?"

Luther sighs, losing his temper, but keeping it professional (more professional than Kayla would expect from a family funeral). "Well, then sober up. This is important. There's also the issue of his missing monocle."

"Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?" Teases Diego, not even looking at his brother.

Kayla puts her hands on her jacket pockets and sighs deeply. It is getting too awkward too fast. She turns her body slightly towards the door, ready to go if this conversation gets any more personal and conflituous.

"Exactly. It's worthless. So, whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him, someone with a grudge."

_And there it comes._

"Where are you going with this?"

"Isn't it obvious, Klaus?" Scorns Diego.

Kayla moves out of the living room, slowly and silent, to not be noticed and disturb the already chaotic reunion. She's not very far in the corridor, and Diego's stong voice makes it easy to eavesdrop the rest of the conflict.

"He thinks one of us killed Dad."

There's silence. The academy is suddenly frozen, and so is Kayla. She hopes no one is looking directly at her, because her little furtive idea surely hadn't been fortunate to the moment. Four years alone at the moon wouldn't be good to no one, and Luther has turned just as paranoid as his father.

The voices start over again.

"You do?"

"How could you think that?"

"Good job, Luther. Way to lead."

"That's not what I'm saying." But everyone has already got on their feet and are walking out of the room just as uncomfortable as the Bernier.

Diego approaches Kayla, extremely disgusted with the accusation, but weirdly satisfacted with his brother's failure. Kayla gives him an uncertain smile, looks over his shoulder to see Luther, desolated, and turns back to her partner. "That went well."  


  
**Emma had been gone exactly eleven hours** , and since then they hadn't talked anymore. Kayla didn't expect different. Still, she searches her phone at her pocket and unlocks the screen, being plenty aware of the lack of messages. The problem, however, is not just Emma and her decision on not keeping contact anymore, but Cain - who haven't given any sign of life in months.

All the Hargreeves are once again scattered around the house, each one in a different room. Diego, in silence, returns to the living room and careless lays down on the sofa Kayla texts another message to her sibling and puts the phone away. "We should go shopping."

He closes his eyes, folds his hands over his chest and takes a deep breath. Kayla continues. "You know, that would be the epitome of our friendship, we would literally reach Nirvana."

He keeps silent, making himself deaf to her suggestion.

"You look good on everything, but I wasn't really looking for a sidekick who's a pastime stripper."

His eyes snap open and he frowns to the woman standing up in the middle of the carpet. "Wait. I'm not your sidekick. You're my sidekick."

She giggles. "Oh, we need to have a conversation, Diego."

"I'm not your sidekick."

He closes his eyes again and cracks his knuckles.

"Looks. Charm. _And_ self-confidence." Her phone suddenly vibrates against her stomach through the polyester jacket. "With your bubbly personality, I can't imagine why you don't have a date tonight."

It's Cain calling. Now, after so many times trying to contact them, Kayla is not sure if she should pick up the phone or not. Cain is like an old song, you may not have liked it back then, or even got infuriated with how much it played and played and played. But years later, you'll hear it again and will love it. Because you miss those days.

She answers. "Wait a minute."

She gets out of the room without giving Diego an explanation, letting him sink on his own ego and exhaustion, while she heads to the courtyard. She greets Vanya, who's sitting by herself at the huge stairs, so small on that grand house - a picture of pittyness.

A muffled song comes from upstairs when she arrives at the chilly courtyard, and her sibling's voice is already echoing through the speaker. "Don't let me hanging on here, I'm not trying to cancel anything, I just wanna talk with my lovely sister. What's my number on the queue? Wait, is that music-"

"Hey." Kayla interrupts their babbling.

"Oh, Hi! What's the emergency?"

"Where have you been?" She chides. "You don't answer messages or calls anymore?"

"Have you seen that old dog has died?" Cain says, switching the subject a bit too quickly. "Heart attack. How's that possible if you don't have a heart?"

"Yeah, I'm at the Academy. They're gonna have a funeral or something."

"Really? Fun! I'm going to pass and give my condolences." Cain says with mischief.

"You shouldn't."

"I give you a ride back."

"I go by taxi."

"I'm already on my way."

"You're driving while on the phone? Cain!"

They laugh. "You're rich, have you never heard of automatic call?"

" _Where have you been?_ "

The truth is: Kayla has never trusted that much on her sibling. It's been a year or more she hasn't talked to Elliott or Sadie, but here she is, struggling to know Cain's last steps.

A gust of wind surges briskly through the yard and a thunder rumbles out of the pale sky, startling Kayla. She waits her sibling's replay as the cellphone starts vibrating on her hand and the connection seems to fail.

I̸ ̶̦̱̜̪̲̈́͌͑͑͆w̶̼͒ë̶̛͓͙̬̝̰́̈́̓͝͝n̶̺̗̭͋̆̑͂ṱ̸̮̎̾̉ ̴͇̽ṭ̸̬̾́͊͑̚͜ŏ̷̮̟̲̈͠͝ ̸̧̦̹͙́́̅̚ͅs̶̨̨̝͎͆̅̇͗e̶̝͕͗͊̚̚e̴̱͓͖̹͚̾̇͊ ̸͖̩̺̮̉̄̌͒M̷̩̘͛a̵m̶̜̟̪̆͗a̴̬̅̏̒n̴̺̏͠

The voice sounds distant and cracked. Another thunder explodes, this time seeming much closer to her than up there in the sky. The wind is worst.

"What did you say?"

I ̷̏ar̵͓̈́̃̚ri̴v̸̑e̷̾̏ ̶ǐ̸n̸   
t̷͗̎w̴̝̿̏͝e̵̟̎ͅn̷͚̿t̶y̵̥̬̓ ̵̡̫̋m̵̺̘̗̻͚̼̻̋͂͊̍͝i̶͈̟̖̦̩͋́̄̌̄̉̐̈́͠͝͝n̶̛͕̝̗͓͓̪̟̰͓̖͋ú̷̡̧̧̝̬̠̝͙͇̅͐͋͋̌̌̓̇͌͘͘ẗ̶̤̤͇̲͓̪̥̦͓̗̩̬͌̌́̓͒̏͊͝͝ȩ̶̺͖͙̩͍̥̹̞̜͉̞̳̈́̉͊̆̕͘͝͝s̸̛̤͈͕̽͌̇̈́̚ͅ

But Kayla isn't paying attention to it anymore. She's focused on the blazing electromagnetic disturbance hovering few meters above the grass, hissing like a blue fireball.

Diego bursts out of the mansion with Vanya following close behind. The air around them is alive, ripped by gale force winds. The others emerge, one by one: Luther; Klaus; and finally Allison. Klaus takes one look at the fireball, then ducks back inside.

"What is it?" Asks Vanya.

Allison touches Luther's arm. "Don't get too close."

"Yeah, no shit", Diego replays, pulling Kayla by the wrist.

"It appears to be some sort of temporal anomaly", explains Luther. "Either that or a miniature black hole."

"Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan."

Klaus returns, holding a tiny fire extinguisher, freaking out. "Out of the way!" He throws the object, obviously getting no effect out of it.

"What was that supposed to do?" Kayla scoffs.

"I don't know! Do you have a better idea?"

The electricity cracks and a indistinguishable figure appears, blending with the storm of blue lights. Everyone gives a step back.

"Get back!" Orders Luther. Usually Kayla would disagree, as she couldn't expect anything serious happening against her, but she does as asked. Fairly enough, Luther has the size of a mountain.

"I vote for running, c'mon!"

The disturbance is getting brighter, more powerful. Instinctively, Allison reaches out and takes Luther’s hand.

Without warning, the disturbance implodes. The winds abruptly subside and the disturbance is gone. From out there, falls a tiny form, a child wearing a suit too big for his frail body. The boy straightens up.

"Does anyone else sees", starts Klaus, translating everyone's surprise, "little Number Five, or is that just me?"

He's certainly _Number Five_ \- as Kayla's memory makes an effort to agree and the grandious painting at the living room made sure to engrave for years.

The boy looks at himself, just as surprised as the others, and with a disappointed scowl says: "Shit."


	3. Good grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof let's pretend I didn't took all this time to update.  
> Anyways, I changed the title and the Academy's name but the rest is all the same.

**The car stops in front** **of the monumental** \- but simultaneously dull - building of the long worshiped Umbrella Academy. What once changed the way the world knew itself, now is only remembered as a piece of pop culture.

Cain's previous stopping point was nothing less than their childhood home, an extension of the notable Bernier Industry of Biotechnology. The house they grew up, just as sterile and bleak as a laboratory, used to leave a metal taste at the tip of Cain's tongue. A place so impersonal that became perfect to someone who can change at a blink of the eyes.

Their flight arrived at dusk, soon after freeing themself from the stench of alcohol, blood and dead bodies from the last mission. When Kayla called, Cain was already at the door of that pitiful nightclub their sister Sadie works on. 

Cain takes the key out of the ignition and looks sideways to the sleepy woman sitting in the passenger seat. Smoothing their hair back, they inspect their image on the rearview mirror because in no way Cain Bernier would show up like they have just been running away from the police. 

Grabbing the bottle of white wine they bought in the way to there, Cain gets out of the car and strides to the sidewalk. The colorful coat in a 70s fashion floats over black clothing. They could already picture the lovely face of Kayla wrinkling at the sight of her sibling, catching the Umbrella Academy by surprise as she's probably holding Cain's arrive to herself.

Cain can tell there must be enough stress in the air by now resulting of some conflict Luther started from nowhere about their father, or childhood, or anything that made him unintentionally the antagonist. (So much self-sabotage sometimes; at least Cain knows how to embody the title of "enemy"); and no, there's no possible scenario where the Spaceboy decided to stay on the moon or simply take longer to arrive.

Cain crosses their fingers in hope to find Diego wearing that lame uniform of his, to match his hostile personality worthy of an anarchist superhero - or a rebel gym trainer.

Allison is their Marie Antoinette; but with a heart of gold of someone who actually cares about the peasants when offering cake as a problem-solver. Also bathed in scandals.

Klaus, if against all odds is still alive (what given the lack of a previous funeral only means either he was in vacation at the rehab - _again_ \- or his body wasn't found yet), he's certainly crawling on drugs.

Five, dead. In their lives, somewhat.

Ben, this one is dead _dead_.

And last, always last, the poor Vanya; such sweet soul, but so depressed - and depressing -, like Elliott. She has always had lapses of boldness that allowed her to retort offenses, but always apathetic and small enough to not call attention to herself for the rest of the day. She has published a book years ago exposing the rotten childhood her and the Hargreeves siblings had in this very building Cain gazes at now. A delighted smile arises on their face. _Good for her_. 

Cain turns back to the car and opens the passenger door, startling Sadie, who almost falls out face to the ground. Their sister blinks repeatedly and rubs her eyes, hissing with the sudden awake. "I thought you were leaving me home?"

A black strand of hair falls around their face like the tail of a snake. "The night is not over yet." It's almost 10am. "Why the hurry to go back to that Devil's pit anyways?" Sadie looks up and her eyes have the always-present savagery of a Chihuahua that makes Cain giggle. "Come on, they won't wait forever."

She picks up her round shoulder bag and puts her black high heels back on before steading herself on the sidewalk. "They who?"

Cain locks the car and points towards the evident building, leading the way.

"Why are we here?" Sadie catches their pace while trying to clean the smudge eyeliner, being unsuccessful and ending with both hands stained.

"It's high school reunion, we're having a barbecue." 

Both siblings walk up the stairs to, not impressively enough, encounter the doors alread unlocked. The high heels tap against the tiled floor as the Bernier welcome themselves to the quiet Academy. A great candelabrum hangs in the center of the room.

"Why are we actually here?" Sadie mutters.

Cain hides the wine behing their back and walks a little further. "To a funeral."

"A what?" She scream-whispers.

A shift at the living-room catches Cain peripheral sight, and he turns to have a stomach-turning surprise. After all those years living in a sci-fi reality, Cain could expect a lot of things. They could shapeshift into anyone; change voice tune; rob someone's identity with scary expertise. But see dead people, no. Never. Talk with ghosts, ocasional ethereal beings and that one time with something that resembled a demon - that's Klaus' thing.

So seeing that darling painting of a long lost brat hanging above the fireplace, and this same long lost brat being right in front of them, alive and well and still on his fifteen just like when he went missing is, at least, a most impressive entrance than the one Cain made for themself.

"Lovely coat." Five says, grinning.

"You... _son of a bitch_."

Sadie taps Cain's shoulder, pointing forward, where the others four Hargreeves and one Kayla with a wrinkle between her brows looks at them in silent expectancy.

Cain shifts their weight. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Cain," offers Allison.

"Also," they lift the bottle of drink with rehearsed hesitancy. "I brought wine."

"Oh, danke!" Klaus claps his hands and walks to them, grabbing the bottle and turning to the living-room.

Everyone follows the Séance, each one with a different level of enthusiasm. Five still waits by the door, shadowing Vanya. His hand lingers above his sternum and his eyes study Cain with grief - for heaven's sake, _grief_? The last sentiment Cain expected in this funeral.

"Where have you been?"

Five drops his hand and lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Couldn't you have arrived half an hour ago?"  
  


  
**Klaus serves the wine in three whiskey cups.** One for him, another for Cain and the third for Sadie. "You know your hair?"

"I know of it," Sadie replies.

"It's all blue."

The woman is sit by the bar counter, shoes put solitary at side as she's now barefoot. She is all mess and colors like a neoexpressionist painting, tickling that side of Klaus' brain that works his curiosity. She always caused that effect on him, at least since the day she shaved her own hair at the age of eleven. It could almost bring a sense of nostalgia, if Klaus wasn't too wasted to grasp this notions.

"I was aiming between Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Happy from Inside Out."

"When you had Blue is the Warmest Color right there? What type of French weirdo are you?"

She takes a sip of the drink and shrugs. Goosebumps crawl Klaus' nape and he doesn't have to turn around to know it's his brother, Ben, showing up at a very convenient time. "How can she be real?"

Klaus chuckles. This ghoul has no limits sometimes. He occasionally wished they could share thoughts, just so he could say " _I'm not flirting with her for you... unless you beg_ ". As it is not possible, Klaus will indeed flirt with her, but just for the sake of flirtation.

He leans on the counter and supports his chin in his hand. "How can you be real?" She is unimpressed. "Asking for a friend."

But their attention shifts to the group discussion not very far. "So you have the mind of an old guy but the body of a toddler?" Cain rhetorically asks, picking on Five's last nerves after he had to repeat himself. "How the law works in your case?" 

Cain approaches the bar and mouths a " _merci_ " to Klaus, before lifting the cup to their cherry-tinted lips.

"That's my last worry at the moment," Five scoffs.

Cain plops themself on the sofa, taking care to not spill the drink, with legs dangling over the arm of the couch. Kayla approaches them with arms crossed, ready to bring the older-sister- _slash_ -leader mentality to the talk. Funny, because she was never truly both. "And where have you been?"

"Amsterdam," they say with indifference. "So beautiful and... you know, orange."

"Is that so?" Kayla teases.

Cain lifts the half-empty cup in a toast. "It's great we're all reunited. When was the last time we did it? Allison's wedding?"

"Elliot is coming too?" Asks Vanya.

"Oh, I forgot about him." Says Cain, pressing their fingers over their mouth; but the regret soon vanishes as they give a dismissive wave. "So, no, probably not. But we have Five here taking his seat."

"Ben is not here either," Sadie says with a dry laugh. "Can we ever say we're all together?"

Well. 

_If they only knew_ , thought Klaus. _To be or not to be, right?_

She continues, rubbing her hands together. "I just got out of work, I didn't know Reginald passed away. Sorry about that."

"You don't look well," Luther says, with the best intentions, but the worst social skills.

She smiles; it doesn't reach her eyes. "Then stop looking."  


  
  
**The six siblings and three guests march once again to the yard**. It's raining now, but there's no use making allusions about tears and sorrow. Grace is also present, and several black umbrellas - plus a pink-tipped one - are positioned side by side. Although being caught out of guard, Sadie readily finds in the pocket dimension of her shoulder bag two translucent raincoats and a yellow umbrella for the Berniers.

"Something happened?" Grace asks, as if there isn't a whole funeral happening in front of her eyes.

All of them look at her with compassion and confusion.

"Dad died," says Allison. "Remember?"

Grace looks down. "Oh, yes, of course."

"Is Mama okay?"

Diego, who's at Kayla's left side and stubbornly standing under the rain, nods. "Yeah, she's fine. She just needs to rest, you know, recharge."

Pogo is the last to arrive, limping closer to the gathering. "Whenever you're ready, dear boy."

Luther, who's standing in front of the semicircle, inverts the urn. The ashes slide out in a clump, landing in a pile at his feet. Very anticlimactic. "Probably would've been better with some wind."

With the silence, they all can hear Cain struggling to keep themself from laughing. 

"Does anyone wants to speak?" Pogo asks, receiving no reactions. Klaus gives a drag on his cigarette. "Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my friend, and my master, and I shall miss him very much. He was a... a complicated man--"

"He was a monster," murmurs Diego. Kayla reaches a hand to his shoulder, in no way intending to stop him, but showing him her support. "He was bad as a person and worse as a father, and the world’s better off without him."

"Diego," hisses Allison.

"My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names, he had Mom to do it."

The words cut Kayla deeper than intended, piercing through her own memories. How her mother, Paule Bernier, waited until her and her siblings were old enough to pick a name for themselves. Cain used to say how luck they were, to choose something on their own, a image to themselves, but Kayla never got rid of being just " _cette fille_ " or " _tu_ ". A name couldn't give them the autonomy the Doctor prived them.

"Would anyone want something to eat?" Grace asks sweetly delusional.

"No, it's okay, Mom," answers Vanya.

Diego carries on with his lecture. "Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was."

"You should stop talking now," grunts Luther.

"You know, you of all people in here should be on my side, Number One."

"I'm warning you."

"After all the things he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away."

"Diego, stop talking."

"That's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" Diego yells, pointing his finger at Luther's chest.

Losing his patience, Luther shoves Diego's arm and throws a hook, which his brother dodges. It was the fuel to start a long-awaited fight for Diego, Kayla knows. He hasn't grown away from his competitiveness; the same reason to why he saw her as his enemy for years.

"Boys. Stop this at once," utters Pogo.

Klaus tries to shield Five, but the boy pushes his arm away with annoyance.

Diego grunts. "Come on, big boy!"

Kayla crosses her arms and looks at Allison, who rolls her eyes in exasperation.

"Stop it!" Vanya pleads.

"Hit him. Hit him," cheers Klaus.

Sadie turns around and walks to one of the benches, sitting on the wet concrete.

Diego gets to punch Luther's face before being shoved to the side. As the fight moves closer to Cain, they stand in front of Vanya and Grace as protection.

"We don't have time for this," says Five, walking away.

No one insists in intervention for some time until, following Diego's provocation, Luther goes to another punch and accidentally knocks Ben Hargreeves' statue. It falls from the base and breaks on the ground. MAY THE DARKNESS WITHIN YOU FIND PEACE IN THE LIGHT, reads the nothing but cruel inscription.

Sadie flinches when the statue hits the ground. " _Bon sang_!" She curses to no one in particular and Klaus leaves a sound of lament before sitting by her side.

Diego pulls out a knife, what Kayla defines is the time to put an end to this. Ignoring Vanya's plea, he throws it at Luther, but before it could cut him, the knife takes an impossible turn to the side and lands on the ground.

Diego glances at Kayla with resentment. She breaks the eye contact first, not from guilt, never cowering, but because all she can care to do right now is walk away. Kayla turns to offer company to Grace, and both move back to the house.

"You never know when to stop, do you?" She hears Vanya mutters to Diego.

His voice is rough and the answer is just as harsh. "You got enough material for your sequel yet?"

"He was my father too."

Next time she encounters Vanya, the two women are waiting at the front hall for a cab. Kayla never knew much about Vanya, she always found more similarities with Luther and Diego - only that the rivalry they had with each other, Kayla had with herself. But what she always noticed when younger, was that no matter how Luther was the Number One, Vanya would always be the one side by side with Reginald at the top, analyzing. Too ironic to not be tragic.

Others little (but not insignificant) things she knows about Vanya is that the woman briefly mentioned The Primordials in her book, including a paragraph about Kayla Bernier which Diego made sure to rub in her face; also, Vanya is an amazing violinist; and she pop pills that calm her down since kid, like she is doing right now.

"When will be your next presentation? I'd like to go, you were amazing last time."

Kayla couldn't actually point out who was playing at each moment, losing Vanya over so many musicians, but it isn't a lie in any way. The whole presentation amazed her.

Vanya closes the lid and puts the bottle back in her coat pocket. "Next week. At the Icarus Theater."

  
  
**Hours after the funeral,** Five rummages around the kitchen for any can of coffee powder. Klaus is collapsed on a chair with an electric guitar on his lap and a bare feet up against the table. Cain Bernier, in addition to it, sits on top of that table with their feet over a perfectly useful seat.

"Where's Vanya?" Asks Allison entering the room.

"Oh, she's gone," Klaus replies.

Five gives up on the search and approaches the others, standing by Cain's side. "That's unfortunate."

Allison frowns. "Yeah..."

"An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms; nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee."

Cain smirks. That glimpse of a proud smile they used to give whenever Five acted mean, but opposed to their own grudge and necessity to defend Vanya.

"Dad hated caffeine," Allison points out.

"Well, he hated children too, and he had plenty of us," Klaus says with a inappropriate laugh, before he notices no one is laughing with him.

Allison turns to Cain. "Are you three staying?"

There is silence, and seconds of impatient pause before Cain turns around just noticing the question was directed to them. Not true. Allison has always loathed being ignored or having to wait for others' attention. She may be the actress of the family, but Cain has always been the best at pretending.

They shook their head. "Kayla's already gone."

Klaus pulls some strings of the detuned guitar, producing a fuzzy sound. "Sadie is sleeping upstairs." He stops and looks up with wide eyes. "Let's throw a pyjama party!"

Five rolls his eyes. "I'm taking the car."

Klaus puts down the guitar and leans in. "Where are you going?"

"To get a decent cup of coffee." Does he need a blackboard and chalk to draw every thing he means? And yet there is a risk that his siblings will fail to recognize figures.

"Do you even know how to drive?" Allison ask.

On the edge of anger, he answer with gritted teeth. "I know how to do everything."

Five offers his hand to Cain, who only stares at it. "Do you wanna a treat or--?" He ignores it and grabs their hand, transporting both of them to outside the house.

Cain falls down against the car and grunts in annoyance. "You know," they straighten their coat. "if you had asked nicely, I would've said yes, dipshit."

Five unlocks the vehicle and sits in the driver's seat. 

"I have my own car," Cain protests.

"You get it back later."

They shove their hands in their pockets. "Isn't it easier if we just go with my car?"

"But then you would be the one driving, and I refuse to let this happen after I said I was doing it." Five closes the door and opens the opposite one, hoping Cain will take the hint and hurry up.

"Do you even reach the brake?"

Five tilts his head. "What are you talking about? You're barely taller than me."

Cain looks down and up again. "Fine. I still hate you."

**Author's Note:**

> This is also being posted on Wattpad as I'm an addicted to procrastinate by caring too much with the aesthetics than actually writing. If interested, search for @-BiTheWay


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